


You Wish

by drarryspanem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Broken Draco Malfoy, Broken Harry, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Friendship, Gay, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Happy Ending, Harry Has Secrets, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Hogwarts Inter-House Unity, M/M, Mutual Pining, Never Have I Ever, Party Games, Secret Admirer, Secret Crush, Secrets, Slow Burn, Sneaking Around, Teasing, The Golden Trio, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27775063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryspanem/pseuds/drarryspanem
Summary: “I could bet you as many galleons as the world has to offer that you could not guess who I just caught fawning over you.”Glancing back and forth, the three could obviously tell it was someone they could least expect, turning this joke into a game. Suddenly, money bets are being thrown around, and the final deal of who-ever guesses the correct person, the other two have to pay the winner 5 galleons each as well as fulfill an embarrassing dare: winner’s choice and pick.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	1. The Secret Admirer

**Author's Note:**

> i would say that this is my first drarry fic, but tbh its my first ever fic in general
> 
> i would say be nice, but please don't be. i mean be it at a point where you arent tearing me down, but telling the truth. please read this and remember i have feelings, but please comment your thoughts on the story along with any tips (and leave kudos if you like it!)
> 
> this is dedicated to @drxmionesdiary on instagram (even though she is a dramione account). kav, without you, this story would be nothing, just an empty google doc. every single word was inspired by you, and i am so thankful for you because you are just amazing. i hope you enjoy this (even though you literally see every draft and come up with half the ideas)/

Not everyone has been lucky enough to meet the person who gives you that deep, internal, heart-wrenching gut feeling that makes you think like you are the luckiest person in the world. The one that makes your heart flip flop, tickles you deep inside the darkest depths of your body.

But I have, and it was with the one I least expected.

-

The warm candlelight greeted Harry and his troop of friends as they tiredly walked their designated table in the Great Hall. After a grueling potions quiz, Harry could barely keep himself from falling asleep as he listened to the delicate pinging of the fat water drops hitting the ground. It was one of those days where everything was grey and gloomy, yet as the magic buzzed through the crowd of tired students, everything seemed beautiful in the light of the candle. He was slowly getting lulled to sleep when suddenly he heard his name being called. Harry, hello? Harry?? Harry!

“Harry,” Ron slowly drawls, catching his eye, lightly touching the arm of the sleepy boy. “We were wondering about your thoughts on the Canon’s game last night, I personally have NO idea why they picked Gudgeon this year, absolutely no help to the team, don’t you think?”

Harry slowly opens his mouth, prepared to say his thoughts and share the stats of the Chuddley Canon’s newest seeker, Galvin Gudgeon, but before he manages he hears a small squeak coming from Ginny, quietly seated on his right.

Before long, Ginny’s face red, barely holding back something more than a giggle. Not too long later, Ginny explodes into laughter, her joyous explosion bouncing off of every wall, causing everyone to turn. Not knowing why, but the trio joins in, just enjoying the energy Ginny has suddenly brought to the table. 

Between wheezes, Ron manages to choke out the single word, “Why?” before breaking into another round of giggles. The trio just laughs at each other’s joy, which was wonderful for them being in such a dark place after the war. After many long minutes of strange glances and belly-aching laughs, the friends finally cool down.

“I didn’t know I had such a power,” Ginny teases. “For if I had known how easily you three laugh, you would be LONG GONE by now.” A grin slowly spreads across her face. “Now,” emphasizing every letter in the word, as if she was tasting it. “Do you want to know?”

“I could bet you as many galleons as the world has to offer that you could not guess who I just caught fawning over you.”

Glancing back and forth, the three could obviously tell it was someone they could least expect, turning this joke into a game. Suddenly, money bets are being thrown around, and the final deal of who-ever guesses the correct person, the other two have to pay the winner 5 galleons each as well as fulfill an embarrassing dare: winner’s choice and pick.

For the second time that afternoon, the Gryffindor bunch brought eyes upon themselves again, this time, basically tearing their friends apart, trying to name the special someone. After minutes of naming almost every girl in the school with a head shake and a chuckle from Ginny, a slow realization hit the three at just about the same time. What if . . . What if that someone was . . . A bloke. 

Eyes wide, they slowly turn their head towards their small ginger.

Ginny, obviously creeped out by this small gesture, she laughed, and said, “Looks like you got half of the puzzle correct. I know you are not Ravenclaws, but you would think after naming all of those females with nothing more than a shake, you would have thought that dear old Harry might have a bloke pining for him.”

Hermione looks confused for a second, but then suddenly whips her head around, glancing back and forth. She locks eyes with Ginny, seeming to have a full-on conversation but not, mentally speaking to her friend.

A small, curt nod.

Is all it takes.

And Hermione comes flying out of her seat, knocking down a confused Ron sitting to her left.

Hermione goes quiet, raising even more suspicions. “Gin,” she says slowly. A grin appears out of nowhere. “Ginny, am I thinking what you are thinking?”  
The twinkle of the two ladies' eyes, a part from the candles floating above like a smattering of freckles, but mostly from the thought that the two shared. Ginny finally stands up as well, then the pair rush out of the Great Hall, hand-in-hand, whispering mischievously to each other.

Ron and Harry share a look as well, but it is nothing like the two girls shared, for this look shared nothing short of confusion.

Ron just grunts, and says, “Women. Always so confusing.” Then returns back to his food.  
Not so quick to his meal, Harry ponders the thought of what the two friends shared, for he knew it was important. Harry knew Hermione though. He knew that in no time, he could get her to spill everything she is keeping from him. It is a good thing Hermione can not keep a secret well, because he needs to know. He needs to know why this silly little game of finding another one of Harry’s secret admirer turned into a silent mission full of secrets. He needs to know.


	2. The Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And for the second time in that hour, a blinding green light fills the room, and another young soul is killed in the hands of Voldemort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still dedicated to my bby @drxmionesdiary on instagram!   
> go follow her shes awesome. 
> 
> sorry for the long update, I was having some issues with technology and didn't have a chance to write or post, but hope to have more work soon!
> 
> g <3

Harry was full of energy, magic pulsing through every fiber of his body, radiating. The power of wanting to crucio LeStrange to smithereens was strong, for there were no amount of words he could use to describe how much he wanted to slowly and painfully kill her.

She pouted, scrunching up her face, and said, “Awww. Does little Potter want to save his friend? Does he want to protect her? Oh, I bet, poor baby--”

Bellowing and full of rage, Harry screamed, “You can NEVER sympathize me, for every fucked up thing in my life is YOUR FAULT.” Before he could scream every horrible thing on his mind and more, he doubled over in pain, his scar ripping him to shreds as the Dark Lord waltzes in. Glee struck across his face, he heads over the chosen one. Cupping his chin, he yanks Potter, up, and by all sorts of edges have been added to his vision.

“H . . . her-Hermione,” he whimpers, calling for his friend. But it’s too late. Bellatrix cackles, then a blinding flash of green light appears from her wand, and Hermione’s lifeless body crumples to the ground like a tossed-aside napkin. 

Harry just stares at the body of his best friend. One of the people who actually made him smile, the light in the darkness of his life with the Dursleys and Voldemort. Then he snapped. Harry lashed out, and despite the heart-crushing pain of the sight he just watched and Voldemort just being alive, he wrenched away from the man’s grip, and tackled Bellatrix to the ground, catching everyone off guard. Snatching the wand from her and pointing it back at her, he screams the curse that could end part of his pain. “Avada Kedavra”, the boy screams, pointing his enemy’s wand against them. 

Nothing came out of the wand. Panic is not the only thing that strikes him. Fire coursed through Harry’s bones; knives oh-so delicately scraping at his marrow. An un-namable heat spread across his body like a weighted blanket. It felt like he was being dragged alive to the deepest depths of hell as the cruciatus curse is at its most effective.

Voldemort strides over to Harry, wailing in pain, as he did just suffer the loss of his best friend and the cruciatus curse. Crouching down over the suffering boy, Voldemort pulls his head close to his enemy’s ear, and whispers.

“It’s your turn.”

And for the second time in that hour, a blinding green light fills the room, and another young soul is killed in the hands of Voldemort.

\- 

Harry suddenly awakes to Ron lightly rubbing his arm, in a way full of such care and tender feeling, he could feel more tears rolling down his already-wet face.

“Are you okay, mate?” Ron questioned softly, looking at Harry with big eyes full of concern. He knows that Harry gets these nightmares every night, but doesn’t understand the depth of realism it gives. Harry shudders, once thinking about the nightmare. “Come and tell me about it, we both know it makes you feel better.”

Harry takes a shaky breath in, then out. The duo starts to head downstairs to the shared common room; another thing that changed with the ear. Now, all 8th years shared the common room, something that Headmistress McGonagall insisted on, saying that it would create “inter-house unity”. McGonagall even changed the colors to a light lavender and purple, which Harry admits does look nice. But, as they reached the landing at the end of the staircase, the connector between the common room and the dorms, they paused. Draco Malfoy was sitting in one of the overstuffed white armchairs, pushed in front of a small fire, softly crying into his hands. 

Harry stood there, mesmerized, at the sight of Malfoy not put together, very much unlike his normal self. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of the sight, at least not until the boy turned around. A range of emotions flashed upon Malfoy’s eyes, some of which include embarrassment, hatred, but also curiosity. 

-

Why was Potter with his pink, tear-streaked cheeks coming down to the common room in the middle of the night? Then again, he himself was in the common room with tear-streaked cheeks in the middle of the night. 

Draco suddenly scrambled to his feet, noticing that Potter wasn’t alone, for Weasel was standing in the shadows behind him, rubbing the small of his back. He began to scurry for the stairs to his dorm when he had a trouble-take, a strange feeling down on his gut locked his eyes on the weasel’s hand. On the small of Potter’s back. A fluttery feeling slowly came upon Draco, a feeling that reminded him deeply of sunshine, a long shot of firewhisky, and . . . happiness? But mainly jealousy. Which confused Draco even more, for this was the boy he has hated for years.

-

Harry stared back at Malfoy, except the weirdest thing was that his enemy was staring back. But not with the normal sharp, murderous glares both boys usually reserved for each other, but a gentle curiosity that left Harry wanting more. 

“Excuse me,” drawled Ron. For a minute Harry forgot he was there, his mind was lost in Malfoy. “I hate to interrupt this mental beatdown between you two, but I have somewhere to go. Sod off, Malfoy.”

Harry grins as the other boy gets lost in a beautiful blush (beautiful?? Something is wrong with me Harry thought), mutters something quietly, then heads upstairs to his bed.

“Prat,” Ron mumbles under his breath. “Probably crying over the fact the He-Who-- I mean Voldemort didn’t win the war.”

Before he can stop himself, he snaps at his friend. “He didn’t have a choice, Ron, okay?? His family forced him to, he would have been killed if he didn’t join.”

Ron looked at Harry, clearly shocked because of what he just said. Slowly, Ron’s thick eyebrows started turning in.

“If you want to be like that, Harry, go ahead. I don’t understand. Because of him, and th-the Death Eaters,” he spat out, clearly disgusted. “Fred would still be alive. So yes, go ahead and get buddy buddy with the bloody arsehole for all I care, but just know that it was his fault my brother is gone.”

Harry gasps and turns pale. Slowly, his face reddens, and Harry is furious. Screaming at his friend, the only words that could be made out were, “FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU. Get lost and don’t bother coming back. And leave me alone.”

Ron’s eyes widened, obviously hurt. “As you wish, Harry.” Shoulders hunched, feet behind, Ron walks out the common room door, Harry briefly hearing the Fat Lady softly ask Ron, “Is everything okay?” 

Before Harry can hear Ron’s response, he chokes on a sob, bolting up the stairs. He reaches his dorm, but when he yanks open the dorm, reality strikes him. 

My best friend in the entire world, the only one I could trust for years, is gone. Ron Weasley, my first friend. 

Is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!  
> i dont really have a posting schedule, so just look out for my work, and it would really mean a ton if you left kudos/comments so I can improve my work!  
> also: I created a harry potter acc on Instagram @svctumspra yayyy


	3. Draco freaking Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i think you all know by now its dedicated to my bby @drxmionesdiary
> 
> please leave your thoughts/comments by leaving kudos and commenting to help me improve my story!
> 
> -g <3

A soft tapping rings in Harry’s ears, stirring him from his tear-induced sleep.

“H-hello? One second.” Standing up, Harry walks over to a nearby bottle. Pouring the cold liquid on his sleep shirt, he dabs his now-wet shirt to his eyes in hopes of reducing the swelling that anyone could easily see. Sighing, Harry gives up at his feeble attempts to change his looks, accepting the fact that he looks like utter crap. 

Back turned and mumbling, Harry replies again to the figure behind the door. “Come in,” still tugging with his shirt, Harry ends up giving up. Silently cursing the universe, he gives up. Swiftly grabbing the bottom of his scarlet sleep shirt, he yanks the cloth over his head in one graceful move. Clutching his shirt in hand and an apology on the tip of his tongue, Harry finally turns around and is not the only bloke in the room who turns the exact scarlet of his wet shirt.

Sputtering, Malfoy had his eyes locked on the body of his supposed enemy for the second time that night. He could just get lost in the structured, golden body. Losing himself in the waves of muscles carved from hours on end of quidditch, but then again the perfect boy must have a perfect body so this should come to no surprise to Draco. Yet, as he stands affront, he can’t help but lose focus.

“Malfoy-” Potter whispers, a ghostly look shadowing his face. Both boys come to their senses, in Malfoy’s case, his head snapping up to Potter’s emerald eyes, Potter realizing he was being stared at.

“Malfoy,” Harry stated with much more confidence and power. His voice falters again but this time he snaps, “What are you doing here??”

Bowing his head down just to bring it back to the now-clouded eyes of his enemy, Draco attempts a smirk. Realizing this was not the time nor could he actually try to be funny with Potter, he sighs and simply tells the truth,

“I was worried.” His voice slows at the end, carrying his speech in hopes to fill the empty space. “I was worried for you, alright. You didn’t look too good when you came downstairs, and it doesn’t sound like it helped that the Weasel lef-”

“How do you know??” Harry knew Malfoy was smart and had people to carry him information, but who worked that fast he wondered.

“I don’t know how you certainly haven’t noticed, but sound travels through these halls.”

Oh. Harry feels dumb, realizing of course anyone could have heard. For Merlin’s sake, he was yelling. Of course Malfoy would have heard him yell at Ron, for now as he thinks about it, he has heard one too many things he wished he hadn’t heard because of the thickness of the walls. Things he would rather not say. 

Suddenly dumbfounded, Harry also realized if Malfoy could hear the argument, he also knew the reason for the argument . . .

Sheepishly smiling to his feet, Draco finally whispered the two words Harry thought he would never hear uttered from a mouth created and owned by a Malfoy: “Thank you, Potter.”

Silence swallowed words that would be meaningless to some, but spoke volumes to Harry. Eyes wide, he caught Malfoy’s glance.

“It’s Harry.”

Grinning wildly, Harry approaches Malfoy.

“I’m Harry Potter, and you?”

“Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

“Nice to meet you Malfoy.”

“Actually, you can call me Draco.”

Making a move Harry now wishes he had done years ago, he outstretches his right arm to meet the surprisingly warm grasp of his former enemy.

-

“Are you going to tell me why you came downstairs with tears in your eyes at 2 in the morning?” Draco speaks calmly, a slight bit of concern lacing every word like a bow.

A single tear softly rolls down Harry’s cheek in memory of his nightmare, yet it still was not close to his worst.

“Oh, no. You don’t have to tell me. You don’t--” His words rushed, eyes curious yet concerned.

“No no no, I will tell you. Just warning you though, it is a long story.” Harry says, composed again. He steals a glance towards Draco, for the boy was sitting right in the middle of a moonbeam, his hair and eyelashes glowing in response. I never realized how beautiful he was, thought Harry. Realizing what he was thinking, he shuddered. He couldn’t, it wasn’t right. He would always be the Saviour of the world and Draco would always be a Death Eater to everyone.

-

Harry’s eyes were gorgeous, a perfect shade of emerald. His eyes as smooth as satin, reflections of the stars beaming. The moonlight casting a shadow on Harry’s face, turning his tears into shining diamonds.

A wave of sadness filled Draco, for he should not be looking at Harry like this. He should not feel fluttery as he sat at the foot of his bed, him crying over a nightmare to him. Grimacing, he scrolls through all of the possible realities if his father found out what he was doing, sitting at the end of Potter’s bed trying to comfort him. Most scenarios involve him being hexed endlessly for shaming the Malfoy name, being gay AND for being friendly to Harry. These thoughts cloud Draco’s head, ultimately making him sad.

Despite his gut feeling to hex Harry and run, he leaned forward and said, “You can tell me. I will be here as long as you want me to.”

Rewarded by the faint lopsided smile Draco was hoping to pry from the boy, his heart panged. Wishing he didn’t know why, he just leaned back against the pole of Harry’s bed, ears open.

-

“I have been having nightmares for as long as I could remember, ever since I was little. The Dursleys didn’t help at all, if you know what I mean, “ chuckling darkly, Harry’s face darkened. Looking up towards Draco, he notices the touch of confusion. Oh, shit he thought. He had only really told The Weasley’s and Hermione what his home life was like, and their reactions were ones he wished he could remove from his memory. 

Eyes wide, he stumbles back trying to metaphorically catch himself. “Um, I mean nothing, nevermind. Just ignore that, sorry. So--” 

Harry didn’t speak fast enough, Draco interrupting before he could move on. “Care to explain? No, I take that back because you obviously don’t.” Eyes laced with concern for Harry, he reddened, touched that he cared for him despite the fact that they had hated one another for years, always on opposite sides until now.

“In advance, please don’t say anything. It is officially time to tell you about my childhood I guess.”

-

As Harry explained and told Draco all the stories of all the times the Dursley’s hit him, ignored him, pushed him around, and commanded him, Draco began to fume.

Trying hard to follow Harry’s previous instructions of not talking during the story, he silently raged on, wishing hell upon Harry's childhood caretakers. Most of all, he felt ashamed of himself, revisiting all the times he made fun of Harry’s clothes or made a comment about how perfect his life was. He was mad at himself for letting himself believe that his life was perfect, and even if he still didn’t know about the Dursleys, his life still wasn’t perfect. He almost died and lost his parents when he was little, as well as having the Dark Lord trying to murder him every year for the past 8 years. Still trying not to flip out in rage over Harry’s childhood, he lost it when Harry quickly added, “Oh and I lived in the cupboard under the stairs from about ages 5-12.” 

“THAT IS CHILD ABUSE.” Draco leaped off the bed, roaring. He didn’t care who woke up or who he angered, he was so pent up and full of rage, he couldn’t hold on anymore. His speech was now incoherent, a jumble of curses and swears flying around and Draco paced the floor, Harry trying to stop him.

“Stop!” Squeaked Harry, accepting defeat already, knowing there was no way of stopping Draco.   
Racking his brain, he tried to search for something that could guarantee Draco’s concern lowered, but nothing came. “Please, Draco.”

As if he was slapped, Draco stopped, his face reddening at the sound of his first name being called. Only Pansy and Blaise called him Draco, even then still breaking pureblood rituals, for first names are only for ordering and marriage. The last thought brought a blush to Draco’s cheek as if he was in 6th year all over again. 

Shaking out a breathy sigh, Draco drew out his words. “Okay. Harry.”

-

He called me Harry.

Forgetting the nightmare that ultimately brought them together, they just smiled at one another.

The moment was too perfect, so it was no shock to Harry when the two started speaking at the same time.

“I’m sorry for keeping you.”

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

Their eyes met, and they just laughed, laughed for no reason. Laughed for the simplest reasons. And for the first time in a while, things felt right for Harry. Draco was truly happy for the first time in forever. And more importantly, they just hung on to each other, enjoying one another’s company for the first time.

And that is when Harry was smacked right in the face with a pillow.

His eyes widen, hungry. He turned around to a giggling Draco, a sight Harry was amazed by. Harry had barely seen Draco smile, let alone laugh. Draco was golden. Shining brightly in a sky full of stars, but never enough for anyone to notice the true beauty in him, always only able to see the flaws while being outshined by Harry himself. 

And that is when Harry was hit with a pillow. Again.

Growling yet grinning, he happily picks up the thrown pillow and throws it hard in Draco’s direction, but to Harry’s displeasure, Draco caught the pillow.

Eyes wide and shining, he waves the pillow, “Oh it is on.”

All hell breaks loose as pillows are being collected and thrown, flying in every direction. The boys laughing, Harry has almost never felt as good as he does now. Overwhelmed by emotions, he closes his eyes and sits on his bed, tears threatening to come. His shoulders shaking, he puts his head in his hands.

After a minute, Draco finally notices and stops laughing. Getting up from the floor, he hesitantly walks over to Harry, kneeling in front of him. “Harry,” He stretches the name, enjoying it. “Are you okay?”

In one quick motion, Harry snaps up, tears in his eyes from laughing. A big grin on his face, one too big for messing around slowly spreads on Harry’s face. In a smooth move, he reaches for his wand.

Draco flinches, expecting all kinds of hexes to fly out of Potter’s wand for he knew this was too good to be true, for no one could ever possibly be this nice to him, especially Potter. But, as he hears words spill out of Potter’s mouth, there is no pain coming to Draco. Confused, he looks up and then all the pillows rise, and come hurtling at Draco. He screeches as tons of pillows come colliding at him at lightning speed.

Choking on air, Harry is cackling on his bed, laughing so hard it is infectious.

-

Gasping for air along-side Harry, Draco is laughing so hard his sides hurt. 

As they are laying on Harry’s bed trying to control their laughter, a thought strikes Draco. If Pansy or Blaise had done this, they would have been hexed to oblivion. So why am I sitting here laughing? What is different about Pott-Harry? Later, Draco would identify these feelings, but for now he was confused. And laughing so hard it hurt.

Finally, once the laughing died down, Draco turned to face Harry.

Except the boy was laying on his side, breathing now being controlled. Soft snores emerged from his mouth, obviously put out by the excitement.

Draco smiled sweetly, enjoying Harry’s presence as a whole, for he was quite relaxing.

Without realizing it, he started lowering himself into Harry’s bed and soon was asleep, caught up in dreams of hope and want, which somehow involved Harry.

-

Harry woke up with his head nestled in Draco’s neck, arms around his waist being pulled close. For a second, Harry just sniffed in Draco’s somehow masculine but sweet perfume, a sweet smell combined of expensive leather and peppermint that Harry just wanted to wrap around him in forever, a smell that Harry could easily wake up to every morning too. 

Pulling up, he finally registered the smell with a face, and Harry was taken aback, shocked by what he saw. And all of the sudden, last night’s fun came back to him, reality following shortly.

What would his friends say if they walked through this door right now? How would they react to Harry enjoying himself in Draco freaking Malfoy’s company?! How would the rest of the Wizarding World act if we are thinking like that! If they saw him happily walking side by side with Draco freaking Malfoy, friends gathered together by war.

What if they were more than friends.

**Author's Note:**

> i know it is short, but i will try to have updates coming in regularly :)
> 
> again, please leave kudos and comment!
> 
> panemsfire on instagram <3


End file.
